


Reignite

by humanveil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Demiromantic Severus Snape, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 05:50:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10353573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: On one hand, he can’t believe it’s Draco that brings it out in him after so many years.On the other, he’s thinking:of course it fucking is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> severus being on the aromantic spectrum is one of my fave headcanons so i'm !!!! to finally post something with it, even if it is short. as a disclaimer: i'm also on the spectrum, but not necessarily demi, so if you think anything is off with the way i write his attraction please let me know!! 
> 
> hope you like it :)

The first time it happens is four years after the war.

They run into each other in Knockturn Alley; the both of them visiting the same dodgy potions store known for its restricted ingredients. They’d not seen each other since Draco’s trial, and Draco looks nothing like the frightened boy he’d been then. He looks healthier, happier.

It doesn’t take long before they’re in bed together.

Draco is beautiful and pliant and wonderfully responsive, and Severus enjoys every second of the actual fucking. It’s after that’s the problem.

He doesn’t expect Draco to stay, but stay he does. It’s an experience that’s almost foreign to Severus. Rarely did he bring anyone home, and even rarer did he let them stay. But Draco wasn’t a stranger he’d met in a bar – they had, at one stage, been something akin to friends – and he finds himself unable to kick the younger man out.

So he waits until Draco falls asleep before slipping out from under the covers. Used to operating with little to no rest, he makes his way to his workroom and stays there until the early hours of the morning.

Draco wakes and leaves before breakfast, and even though he promises to ‘be in touch’, Severus tells himself it won’t happen again.

*

It happens again.

And again.

And again.

And then it continues to happen until it’s something of a regular activity; something they do at least once a week. There’s a nonverbal agreement that what they’re doing is just sex, though Draco stays each time, and Severus continues to leave the room just as he had the first night.

It takes Draco four times before he realises that no, Severus doesn’t just wake up ridiculously early, and that yes, he does indeed slip away so they don’t have to share a bed. He’s confused more than anything, and he makes a point of asking in the morning before he leaves.

When Severus hears the question, he struggles to resist the urge to sigh. He’s reminded of why he doesn’t usually repeat sexual partners; the explanation having always been something he’d hated. The _it’s not you, it’s me_ discussion that only ever seemed to confirm the other person’s suspicions that it was, in fact, them.

“It’s not you,” he says anyway, because he’s never actually cared enough to find a ‘better’ way of explaining it. “I just can’t sleep with someone else in my bed.”

Severus hopes it’ll be left at that, so of course it isn’t.

“Why not?” Draco asks. “Not the cuddling type?”

It’s said almost sarcastically, but that really is it, Severus thinks. “Not the romantic type,” he says simply, leaning again his kitchen counter.

He watches Draco’s reaction; watches the light furrow of his brow, the little tilt of his head. “Never?”

Severus shrugs. “Sometimes,” he admits. “Very rarely. It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Draco’s tone is tainted with genuine curiosity, the reaction so unlike Severus’ common experiences that he’s a little surprised. “I mean. You don’t have to say, I just…”

“Demiromantic,” Severus says, to stop the fumbling.

“Oh,” Draco breathes, and Severus assumes he has no idea what demiromantic actually means, even if he won’t admit it. “Well,” he says. “You could have just asked me to leave, you know. I would have been okay.”

“You fall asleep within five minutes.”

“You wear me out!” Draco says defensively, though his lips twitch. “And I didn’t know I couldn’t. I’ll stay awake next time.”

“Next time?”

Draco shrugs. “I don’t really care if you don’t like dancing and dining under moonlight,” he pulls a face as he thinks of examples, like he isn’t fond of the ideas himself. “You’re a good shag, and that’s what this is, isn’t it?”

Severus hums, and Draco nods. “Good,” he murmurs, slipping last night’s cloak around this shoulders. “See you Monday?”

“Monday,” Severus repeats, pulling the door open for Draco and watching him go.

*

“So I looked it up,” Draco says on Monday. He’s sprawled out on the left side of Severus’ bed, chest still rising and falling erratically.  They’d only just finished; Severus can still see splashes of come lining Draco’s abdomen.

“Hm?”

“Your thing,” Draco clarifies. “I think I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” Draco mumbles, turning his head to the side to look at Severus. “So it’s like, you only feel romantic attraction to people you feel connected with? People you trust.”

“Kind of,” Severus tells him. “It’s not guaranteed.”

Draco nods, like he gets it. His bottom lip slips between his teeth, his expression contemplative. It’s obvious he wants to ask something, so Severus sighs. “Just ask,” he says.

Draco smiles sheepishly, like he’s been caught doing something bad. “Have you ever…” he starts, and Severus already knows where the question is going. “I mean, how many people have you… Can I ask this? I feel like I probably shouldn’t. Like it’s one of those questions where—”

“It’s fine,” Severus says to cut him off. Usually he hates answering questions about it – he’d been asked this same thing numerous times and had never answered it – but Draco’s inquiries have an endearing quality to them. It’s obvious his questions come from a place of real interest, rather than one of ridicule or disbelief. “Two,” he admits. “Both when I was younger.”

“Huh,” Draco comments. “That’s so… I don’t know. Fascinating, I guess. I feel like I get a crush on every second person I meet.”

Severus smiles slightly, rubbing at his forehead. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

Draco huffs at him, but he’s smiling too. “Clean up time?” he suggests. “This is getting uncomfortable.”

Severus sits up on the bed, summoning a cloth from his bathroom. It’s only moments before Draco is cleaned and dressed, standing to the side of Severus’ bed.

“Thursday or Saturday?”

“Either.”

“Both?”

Severus’ lips twitch. “You’re eager.”

“You leave me satisfied,” Draco shrugs, unashamed. “We can do dinner on Saturday, too.”

“I don’t date, Draco.”

“Not as a date,” he says. “There’s a restaurant I want to try. I don’t want to go alone.”

Sighing, Severus answers, “Alright.”

“Yeah?”

“If you really want to.”

Draco grins. “Okay. I’ll see you Thursday, then.”

*

Thursday comes and goes, as does their Not A Date. It goes better than Severus had expected. Draco is good company, which isn’t really a surprising fact. He’d just forgotten how well versed the younger man was.

They spend hours in the restaurant – an upscale Italian place just on the edge of Wizarding London – and Draco uses the time to quiz him on his life after the War. Once cleared, they had both gone off to do their own thing. Not hiding, really. Just staying away from the public eye.

Severus tells him about his research, and in turn, Draco tells him of his travels; of the people he’d met and the sights he’d seen. It’s easy conversation, flowing without awkward or uncomfortable silences, and Severus is reminded why he’d once considered Draco a friend.

And once the bill is paid, he takes Draco back home and fucks him until the only thing capable of coming from his mouth is jumbled, incoherent words of pleasure.

*

To Severus’ chagrin, dinner also becomes something of a regular occurrence. Lunch, too, sometimes; and once Draco manages to drag him to brunch. He keeps saying they aren’t dates, and they don’t _feel_ like dates, but Severus can’t shake the thought that they would be to anyone else.

He doesn’t know why he cares so much. There isn’t an issue that he can pinpoint, only that he hadn’t started this with the intention of it turning into anything more, and this feels like _more_.

“You’re overthinking it,” Draco tells him one day. “You do that a lot. It’s just dinner.”

Severus hums, non-committal. Draco sighs. 

It’s almost domestic.

*

Their relationship seems to take a more serious turn in the following months. They’re seen in public together more and more, and Severus knows that people are starting to talk. He simply doesn’t care.

(In retrospect, he probably should have seen in coming long before he did. As it were, it takes him an embarrassingly long time to realise that the reason it feels like _more_ , is because a part of him wants it to be.)

Draco had spent most of the day with him playing lab assistant. He had proven to be surprisingly competent, and so Severus had no qualms about letting him inside his workroom.

Now, though, they’re lying in post-coital bliss; the room filled with the sound of their heavy breathing. Their bodies are still intertwined, neither bothered to move just yet. Draco lies practically on top of him, his face hidden against Severus’ chest, his breath dampening the already sweaty skin.

Severus reaches a hand to the damp hair, sweeping it away from his face. Draco mumbles something incoherent, cheek rubbing against him in a way that’s nearly cute, and Severus can’t help himself as he bends to press his lips to Draco’s forehead.

He doesn’t realise what he’s done at first, but then it’s like a shock to the system; a panicked feeling of _wait did I really just…?_

It’s not that there’s anything wrong with the action, it’s just that he can’t remember ever – _ever_ – having the urge to do it. Even when he’d dated, even when he’d been romantically attracted to someone, he hadn’t found that level of intimacy appealing in the slightest.

Draco doesn’t react at all, his half asleep form happy to simply snuggle against Severus’ side. He looks moments away from passing out, and though he _almost_ doesn’t want to, Severus nudges him onto the other side of the bed.

Draco jolts awake at the movement, his hand reaching out to steady himself. He looks to Severus with a tired smile, one hand moving to rub at his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m going,” he mumbles, and it sounds almost sad.

Severus knows he should just let Draco stay – he likely isn’t going to sleep, not now that his mind has decided it’s a perfect time to re-evaluate every feeling he’s ever felt towards one Draco Malfoy. But the younger man is already getting ready to leave, and Severus thinks it might be easier to contemplate their relationship _without_ the distraction of Draco’s adorably sleepy form lying in his bed.

So he lets him leave, and when Draco asks if they’re still on for Saturday, he nods.

*

Eventually he comes to the conclusion that he’s simply overreacting; that it really isn’t _that_ big of a deal. That his actions were a natural reaction prompted by endorphins.

But then Saturday comes, and Draco greets him with a smile radiating genuine pleasure, and Severus’ chest flutters in a way it hadn’t since his late teens. They go to dinner, as was their usual weekend routine, and Severus finds himself pleased when the waiter mistakes them for a couple.

It’s odd, to feel like this again. Both exciting and frightening. It had been almost two decades since he’d felt a romantic inclination towards anyone, and he almost doesn’t trust himself with titling it as such. But what he feels is something, something he can’t describe with any other word.

It’s confirmed later that evening, when they’re both coming down from their high. Draco is once again lying next to him on the bed, the sheets doing a poor job of covering his body. His skin is marked with signs of Severus; light red marks that trail his collarbone, faded bruises that litter his hips. The sight fills him with a possessive type of satisfaction.

Draco moves to sit up, and Severus surprises himself when he reaches his hand out, long fingers curling around Draco’s thin wrist.  “Don’t,” he says softly.

Draco looks to him, confused, and Severus _knows_ he’s done for. On one hand, he can’t believe it’s Draco that brings it out in him after so many years.

On the other, he’s thinking: _of course it fucking is._

“Huh?”

“Stay.”

Draco still looks confused. “Stay?” he repeats, asking for clarification.

Severus nods, humming softly.  Draco stares at him, looking unsure for a moment before his face finally splits into a grin. There’s a knowing glint in his eye, an air of relief around him. Like this is a moment he’d been waiting for.

Severus had been worried that Draco was going to question the decision, but thankfully he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he murmurs, lying back against the mattress. He shuffles closer to Severus, getting comfortable. They’re not cuddling, exactly, but they definitely aren’t not cuddling.

Severus’ body is rigid at first. Unsure. It’s a situation he hasn’t been in long enough that he’s actually forgotten how to act. Draco lifts a hand, the smooth pad of his finger reaching to trace the skin of Severus’ chest. “Relax,” he murmurs, a smile in his tone, and Severus tries to do just that.

Within moments, Draco is asleep. Severus watches him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and wonders how he can do it so easily. It had always taken him hours to fall asleep.

It gives him time to think, though, and he can’t decide if it’s a blessing or a curse. He’s aware that, come morning, they’re going to have to have a conversation; that they’ll have to establish if a serious relationship is something they both want.

Severus knows he isn’t always going to feel like this, that his romantic attraction is going to fluctuate and potentially cause problems; that he could feel everything one second and nothing the next. Boundaries are going to have to be discussed; warnings will have to be given.

Now, though, he’s happy to simply watch Draco’s peaceful form.

Eventually, it’s the steady rhythm of Draco's breathing that lets him slip into unconsciousness.


End file.
